As
the wind picked up it made the old roof creak; a loose unseen window shutter from
somewhere around the back of the property, banged nosily against the side of
the dilapidated mansion.
Leaning
on the rusted fence railing letting out a small sigh, Charles gave an absent
minded nod as his eyes traveled across the yard that was just as neglected as
the house.
“Don't
worry; in a couple of weeks, you'll be good as new.” He spoke to himself before
he pushed himself off the fence, squared his shoulders and walked up the old
pathway to what was left of the front entrance.
After
having driven for almost two days straight, it felt good to be out of the truck
Charles had hired to bring his most important belongings with him.
Outside
was a perfect sunny spring day with birds chirping happily in the warm
sunshine, the inside of the mansion seem to have an overpowering aura of sadness
about it. The merger light that seemed to be allowed to come in, didn't even seem to brighten up the place at all.
Charles
stepped inside carefully feeling the floorboards with a little bit of his
weight to make sure they wouldn't collapse under him.
Dust
wafted on the stale air of the place, glistening dully in the shafts of
sunlight.
The
mansion he had decided to purchase after he had had been transferred to
Twinbrook so that he could work with a more accommodating division for his research.
The
mansion was perfect for him because he could customize the place for his work
while having it renovated.
“These little
off-the-side towns don't have to follow the regulations like we do here in the
city. I've organized some contractors to come and fix up your place, just tell
them what you want and they'll do it. Do what you have to do, and when you're
ready give me a call; I'll bring my people to you.”
That
was the last thing Charles's former boss had said to him as he finished packing
up his research lab into the truck three days ago.
Charles
had been informed of the history of the mansion; it was said, as with all good old stories, that a wealthy businessman had
built the house for his new wife in the early 1800s as a wedding gift.
In
its day it was one of the grandest houses in Twinbrook, with the view of the
wetlands leading out the ocean giving it a grand unspoiled vista, no other
piece of land in the town could rival it.
His
wife had only given him two girls and was unable to have any more children
after them; he apparently became depressed taking up gambling and drinking
heavily.
Of
course this lead to the usual result of the husband beating his wife and
children, to which he eventually lost his them as well as his entire fortune
which including the house.
The
wife had moved away from Twinbrook and bank repossessed the house. A few days
later the man was found dead in the low lying swamp lands of Twinbrook, drowned.
Some
said he was murdered by those he owed money too; others say he committed
suicide from being grief stricken, but since no investigation was ever done, no
one knew the truth.
To
his own slight surprise Charles found that lost in his thoughts he had wandered
into one of the old rooms doorways, he standing in what appeared to have once
been a sitting room of some sorts.
As
grand as the house once was, it appeared to be a rather small version of
grander mansions from its time.
Giving
a small shrug, he knew it didn't matter in the slightest since the renovating
was going to be starting the next day anyway.
His
work didn't allow him too much time for dating and the thought of marriage
never even crossed his mind.
As
he stared at the broken window pane across the room, his thoughts actually
turned to how he was going begin work since he would have to wait for the
renovations to be complete before he could get started.
Deciding
that since nothing would be working or safe to use in the house, Charles called
himself a pizza.
As
he hung up a loud bang come from above him; carefully he climbed the old
staircase to the upper floor of the house, carefully watching his footing and
ducking under low hanging, dust filled spider webs from time to time that were
probably older than he was.
Upstairs
had a different aura to downstairs, here it smelt of a long faded jasmine
perfume that still seemed to be clinging to the worn and faded lace curtains.
Twice
had to stop and look behind himself, he shook his head each time knowing it was
a natural reaction to being in an odd and different environment to what he was
use to.
He
checked the rooms one by one; there were five rooms upstairs in all.
But
the one that grabbed his attention the most was a small seemingly unneeded room
which had an old ladder leading up to was he assumed was the attic.
He
peered up into the shadows for a moment before gripping onto the rungs of the
ladder and slowly ascended.
The
attic was gloomier than the rest of the house, so Charles had to stand for a
moment to let his eyes adjust to the room. He spotted some old candles by a
bookcase, pulling a lighter he always kept handy from his jeans pocket; he
carefully lit them then put it back in his pocket.
As
usual, the attic had abandoned old junk left behind, but strangely the assorted
items looked to be even older then the furniture downstairs.
The
dust was so thick in places that it was almost like carpet. Long ago the roof
had collapsed in places and now weeds had taken root amongst the rotting
floorboards. The books in the cases were so old and damaged that as much as Charles
wanted to reach out and grab the precious antique writings, he didn't dare for
fear that they might crumble under his touch.
The
smell of musty mold made Charles wrinkle his nose for a moment in distaste.
With
another half hearted sigh he turned to go back down the ladder since the sun
was beginning to set, he would have to get some sort of light going downstairs before
he was unable to see anything.
The
last thing he wanted to do was to be fumbling about in the potential death trap
that the house was for the moment.
Just
as he was about to leave, something small and pale caught his eye in the far
back corner of the second section of the attic.
A
par of tiny feet were poking out from the far side of an old toy box, usually
he wouldn't have given it a second glance but in the ever growing darkness he
wanted to know just ‘what’ the tiny feet belonged too.
Going
over and bending down, he saw that it was an old, worn porcelain doll.
She
was dusty, her once elegant dress and painted face were faded from time but
other than that, she was perfect.
Her
silver glass eyes surrounded by long eyelashes stared blankly at the wall, her
lips painted in an everlasting pretty pink smile with rosy cheeks and the
classic oval shaped face framed by a neatly trimmed head of thick faded blond,
straight silky hair.
It
wasn't until there was a shout out from below that Charles was startled out of being
mesmerized and lost in thought while staring at the strange doll.
“Hey,
anyone here, I got a pizza for Maddison?”
“I'M
HERE...I'M HERE, ONE MINUTE!”
Charles
shouted down, he was hungry and didn't want to lose out on eating because he
was day-dreaming.
Hurriedly
coming downstairs to get his pizza, the delivery girl gave him a funny look as she
handed the box over after taking his money.
“I
live here now, just moved in this afternoon.” He clarified to stop her odd
stare at him.
“Right,
hope you didn't get ripped off man...”
Charles
gave a small huff with a raised eyebrow. ‘Unlike
the 30 simolians I just paid for one stupid pizza.’
He
gave a plastered smile and took the pizza to what remained of the kitchen.
Taking
a slice of pizza, Charles thought while eating it about his research.
He
was suppose to be heading to the science labs on the other side of town to
begin his work in the morning, he wasn't sure how his new colleges would react
to his theories and hoped that they would be just as interested as he was.
Of
course a lot of it was controversial and although it didn't require animal or
human testing, there was still the debate of what the end results were to be
treated as if he was successful.
That
was the tricky part; he paused sitting in thought for a long time.
Again
it was a stiff breeze and the banging of the loose shutter that snapped him out
of his thoughts; the pizza he'd left in the kitchen was now cold and he didn't
feel like finishing it off.
Deciding
to just sleep downstairs in a sleeping bag he had bought, Charles settled down
on the creaky floor boards of the sitting room.
Shutting
his eyes against the strange darkness of the house he made a mental note that
before the gardeners, plumbers and handymen came to start repairing the place,
he would make sure they would be able to make the place a bit roomier without
altering the original style of the house too much as well as create a suitable
space for him to be able to have his own work space.
The
last thing he needed would be the roof to cave in on him while he was trying to
work, and sleeping on the floor was not doable for more than a few days either.
The wind picked up
again as Charles fell asleep; it howled its way through the dead trees and
weeds in the yard as well as making the loose shutters batter themselves
against the outside walls like an out of beat drummer.
Dawn
gave a soft gray pink glow to the skyline of Twinbrook the next morning.
Charles
was up as his sleeping bag wasn't comfortable nor did it guard against the
chilled air that seeped up through the uneven floorboards all night.
Going
to the kitchen, he stopped and leaned against the arch of the doorway and gave
it a good long look, shaking his head and wrinkling his nose at the off smell
of the pizza accidentally he left out, Charles was glad that work on the house
would be starting in a few hours. He'd never realized how much he missed having
a fridge and coffee machine.
Just
as he was beginning to wander about the kitchen, his phone buzzed in his
dressing gown.
Pulling
it out he saw he had received a message from the builders with the floor plans
for the house.
The
plan was to restore the house to its original state, with a few modern changes
added for room and comfort.
8:14am - ‘No more than a
week at the most, unless there's extensive damage to the outside supports and
the properties foundations.’
With
a nod, Charles checked the time on the phone before putting it back in his
pocket and went to get changed.
As
he left the house, the builders truck pulled up out front. Use to seeing
pick-up trucks, it was a bit of a shock to see what looked like a moving truck
instead.
Taking
stiff inhale of breath, Charles nodded to the builders and called a taxi to
take him to work.
He
made a note to get himself a car of some sort before the week was out.
As
Charles arrived at work, it began to rain, fat droplets spattered on the ground
with sharp tapping sounds as if to make a statement.
Opening
the door to the lobby of his new workplace, he stood for a moment absorbing the
odd simplicity of the place.
It
was orderly and set to direct one straight to where they needed to go around
the building.
“Impressive...”
Charles spoke to no-one in particular as he squared his shoulders and walked on
into the building.
In
all honesty he hated meeting new people, it wasn't that Charles was a loner or
had trouble making friends; it was the whole process that annoyed him more and
more every time.
New
names to faces, new information to retain so as not to insult anyone, and the
first out-side of work meeting always felt like an exam of some sort.
Recall the name,
where you met them, what they're working on, did you get along with them or not
when you first met. Charles found it to always be the same tedious
merry-go-round of communication that was necessary to be productive, but
annoying none the less.
******** ******** ******** ******** ******** ******** ********
Charles
couldn't help but wonder what his former boss had paid the builders. He was
amazed when by the end of the week, on the Friday no less; they had completed
the entire restoration of the house, inside and out.
Everything
from the furnishings Charles picked out for himself; to wallpaper that was
historically accurate of the houses original style, even the light fittings
were so close that Charles was sure if he emptied the house of everything, it
would look like it had been built only yesterday back in its original time.
As
Charles requested, the attic had been turned in his own private study and
research area. He was able to have placed a simple but effective work bench in
the far room.
There
were still a few old boxes and trunks the builders had left behind. Knowing
that the old trunks held things that could be worth a fair few simolians,
Charles had specifically asked the builders to leave any they found in the
attic.
The
odd porcelain doll had also been carefully placed on top of an empty wooden box
by Charles's research bench; she still stared at the opposite wall with her
silver glass eyes, but something seemed to have changed... her eyes seemed
shinier somehow, and, was she smiling just a little bit more than before or had
he not noticed in the shadows of the room when he had first seen her?
